


And I’m Feeling Good

by reserve



Category: Men's Hockey RPF
Genre: Advice from the Captain, Dylan is a Bottom and he’s Annoyed About It, M/M, Magical Realism, Oral Sex, Rimming, Sort-Of Soulbond, shoddy worldbuilding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-06
Updated: 2020-03-06
Packaged: 2021-02-28 06:07:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,550
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22989073
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/reserve/pseuds/reserve
Summary: The sex was just a super-charge. A slump busting technique. And Dylan wanted to win, so the choice was easy.
Relationships: Alex DeBrincat/Dylan Strome
Comments: 6
Kudos: 94
Collections: The Dylan Strome Celebration 2020





	And I’m Feeling Good

**Author's Note:**

  * For [robokittens](https://archiveofourown.org/users/robokittens/gifts).



> To my best friend in the world. I hope you like this.

It was the price of admission, that was the only way Dylan could think of it. Make it to the show as an everyday guy, get your housing letter, put up points, and in exchange: deal with your own shit, accept your hang-ups, accept yourself.

Jonathan Toews had shrugged at his alarm when Dylan approached him about the way things were going. He’d caught Tazer alone after post-practice lunch at the rink, cornered him while Alex and Kaner went off to watch tape before they’d all head home.

“Get used to it,” his new captain had said. “It’s part of the process.”

Tazer was big on process.

“Is everyone—.” Dylan paused, could tell he was about to go off on a tangent and wanted to put a halt to it. “Listen, I just.” His hands flailed. “This isn’t me, okay? Like, I’m not this guy. I was never this guy. I wasn’t this guy in junior and I wasn’t this guy in Arizona. And it’s. It’s _freaking me out a little_.” His voice went strained and slightly high-pitched despite his best efforts.

Tazer’s lips were a flat line, then he lifted both his eyebrows and shrugged again; congenial, unperturbed. He patted Dylan on the back. “Stress about your game, bud, not the bedroom.”

Dylan coughed in shock. He was about to protest, but Tazer gave him one more solid slap on the back and walked out of the dining room whistling, probably on his way to offer Kaner a ride home. 

“Welp,” Dylan had said to himself. And that was the start of it all, really. If he had to put a finger on it.

—

He’d heard the rumors. He wasn’t deaf and he had the perceptive, annoying attention to detail that seemed to befall a lot of middle children. So he’d heard the rumors that some guys switched it up when they got to the league for real, sometimes even finding each other via trade because one of the team psychics had suggested there was potential for a match.

It wasn’t like the OHL where it was more of a puppy pile situation, the bizarro socialization of type A teen boys. In Erie nothing was too serious, maybe you got your dick wet after a big win or something but nothing more. There wasn’t, like, a consulting business dedicated to that kind of thing in the minors either. 

The league was different. Guys paired up because it helped them win. Crazy but true, his brother Ryan confirmed.

It wasn’t really a soulmates sort of thing, either, but some guys (if they were _lucky?_ Jury was still out on that as far as Dylan was concerned) just ended up in special relationships. Still had girlfriends, still fucked around on the road or whatever, but also. Yeah.

And the NHL _knew_.

That was the wildest part. The way it was tacitly marketed to the public without anyone actually saying what was going on. Which in Dylan’s case… well. The front office girls had made him and Alex pose for that Christmas card and Dylan was absolutely certain the rictus look on his face was directly correlated to the fact that he was still sore.

—

At the beginning, the problem wasn’t Alex. The problem could _never_ be Alex. Dylan was the problem because he barely recognized what he was into anymore and it could be confusing. But Alex was team first. He was unflappable and patient, and if they weren’t trying to beat the shit out of each other for fun or hanging out with Ralph, then Alex was.

Alex was definitely trying to get into his pants, for the sake of the game. Duh.

More than a year on he’s mostly gotten used to it, because if they’re not playing on a line together then he really needs this. And when he was on the IR he needed it even more. It was suffocating, how badly he wanted to be close to Alex when a few days had gone by, and it was equally oppressive to try and be chill about it when he had to keep himself from wrapping Alex up into his arms during practice. See, he’d have to eventually let go if there were other people around and that felt like flaying off a layer of his own skin when he was especially needy.

At least he knew they weren’t alone. He’d had his suspicions, and eventually it was confirmed for sure, that he and Alex weren’t the only ones on the team caught in a _bond_ to some degree. He saw the way Kaner leaned against Jonny sometimes during warm-ups. It was like charging a battery. Alex did that for him. Charged him up. He did the same for Alex.

The sex was just a super-charge. A slump busting technique. And Dylan wanted to win, so the choice was easy once he took Tazer’s words to heart.

—

“You know we don’t have to, right?” Alex said that sort of thing a lot, usually when he was taking off Dylan’s slacks or pulling down his boxers. Now he was kneeling over Dylan on Dylan’s bed. Tayler was in Toronto with her family for the weekend and Alex had come over for ‘chel and take out.

“I want to,” Dylan insisted. The admission always made his stomach feel like he’d drank curdled milk. “I want it,” he added. He had three glasses of red wine confidence. He felt easy. Tayler would have teased him, probably been tipsy herself. He really cared about her. 

Alex was, as always, a steady-handed presence. His bright smile made for a helpful tether to the moment. “Ok, dude,” he said, laughing a little and maybe at Dylan’s expense. Then his brow furrowed. “Your mouth is all stained.”

“Does it look good?” Dylan asked, feeling bold. He licked at his lower lip.

It took Alex a moment to answer which felt like a dub.

Dylan watched him swallow and shift slightly, which made him want to roll his hips and get things moving. Alcohol made him hotter for it, and that seemed pretty normal, but still—he was grateful Alex didn’t seem to mind. He’d talked to Tazer about that once, too, in probably his most awkward interaction with another human being until he’d managed to get the words out.

“Yeah,” Alex said, at last. He put his thumb on Dylan’s lower lip and pressed down a little. “You’re.” His expression turned sly, nose scrunching up like it did before he said something he thought would be funny. “You’re pretty tonight.”

“Then you should kiss me,” Dylan said, letting Alex move his thumb back and forth over his mouth, the seam between his lips. “Last time we did kissing we both scored.”

“Did we?”

“You know we did.”

Alex hummed. He was a pretty quiet dude, thoughtful when he wasn’t being bitingly sarcastic. Dylan was the exact opposite; when he tried to be cutting his jabs always came out kind of breathless and desperate. He nipped at Alex’s thumb and felt like he was on the verge of getting whiny.

“C’monnnn,” he said. He lift his pelvis up, seeking contact.

Alex clamped his thighs around Dylan’s hips as though to say “don’t move.” He smirked down at Dylan. He was in plaid boxers. He had such big legs in comparison to Dylan’s slim, twiggy limbs. _A sturdy little motherfucker_ , one scout had called Alex back in the day, before the 2016 draft. Alex was livid over it for a week but the guy had been right. Alex was thick where it counted, and Dylan could feel the power in his muscles for real when Alex had him like this, on his back, mildly helpless and a little bit sick about how much he liked it, even now, when he should have been past the point of doubting something good.

Maybe that was the problem; it was so good he sometimes felt the need to hold off or hold back. You could only stare into the sun for so long before it blinded you. Fooling around with his best friend and then ostensibly lighting the lamp _because_ he’d gotten fucked nearly in half by the selfsame best friend the night prior felt like cheating.

Never mind trash cans; Dylan was just getting straight up banged.

“Seriously pal,” he tried. “Shit or get off the pot, I’ve got stuff to do.”

“Gross,” Alex said. Then he leaned down, and _finally_ put his mouth on Dylan’s. “I can’t believe I’m into you.”

Dylan had basically been a fan of kissing since he first started doing it. And kissing Alex, especially now, was top of the list of things he loved but didn’t like to ask for because it made him feel like he was asking for a second helping of ice cream or something. Alex cupped his cheek, fisted his other hand in Dylan’s hair and then it was _on._ There was tongue involved; he was definitely moaning and definitely trying to flip them both over so he could put himself on top but Alex wasn’t having any of it and usually didn’t.

He settled for grinding against Alex’s thigh until he could feel the gratifying heat and shape of Alex’s hard dick against his stomach where it was pressed between them. He had one hand on Alex’s tailbone, fingertips just past the waistband of his boxers even though he didn’t mean anything by it, and his other hand was at Alex’s throat. He didn’t mean anything by that either, not really, but he loved the way Alex’s breath moved his Adam’s apple against his palm, he loved the strength Alex held there, and the cut of his jaw where it Dylan could feel it at his thumb and forefinger.

They never really talked about a lot of the stuff they did, but Alex hadn’t punched him in face yet so Dylan figured he was in the clear. They kept kissing, and it was good. 

“Blowjob?” Alex asked, pulling away after a while. His cheeks were pink.

“Me or you?” 

“You, dummy.” Alex was already trying to shove down Dylan’s briefs.

“Fuck yeah,” Dylan said. He crossed his arms behind his head but Alex stopped. “What?”

“Don’t get too comfortable.”

Dylan rolled his eyes, but really couldn’t look away from Alex for long if he tried. “Or what?”

In the limited light they had, Alex’s pale irises looked electric, his expression wicked.

“Dunno yet,” he said, which felt like a weird sexy threat and Alex’s burly monotone added an additional layer of weird-sexy, but then he was sucking Dylan’s dick and Dylan really, genuinely couldn’t think about anything except for the exceptional tandem of Alex’s mouth and his fist, and the fucking squelch of it, and how he could probably levitate or something with how good Alex’s tongue felt.

He was really spoiled for choice between Tayler and Alex and he knew it.

“You’re so fucking hot, Kit,” was spilling out of his mouth before he could stop himself. “You know that? Love that about you. Love that for me.”

Alex snorted but looked up at him with his lips still wrapped around Dylan and Dylan almost nutted on the spot. One of his legs twitched, hard, and Alex gripped the base of his dick in admonition and seemed to double his efforts while making the most harrowingly intense eye-contact Dylan had yet to experience in his life. And they’d been doing this for months. 

“Let me come on your face,” Dylan said, breathless now, spiraling and urgent. “Please, babe?”

“Not yet.” Alex had to stop to speak and it wasn’t fair. In fact, it was terrible. He shifted and suddenly hauled Dylan’s legs over his shoulders so that Dylan’s back was arched and he could shove a pillow between Dylan and the mattress. He got his hand on Dylan’s spit-slicked dick, and with absolutely no warning, put his tongue on Dylan’s asshole

Dylan yelled. He accidentally jammed his heel into Alex’s spine like a chump but somehow Alex didn’t lose his rhythm.

“Warn a dude,” Dylan groaned.

Alex’s wrist twisted—blessed fine motor control, blessed silky mitts—and his tongue did something unconscionable that made Dylan feel like he was being turned into a puddle, no, sexier, like he was a rain shower, like if he were a girl he’d be squirting.

“ _Nnnngh_ ,” Dylan went, with great feeling. He was going to lose it. One of Alex’s fingers prodded at him along with his tongue and that was it. Game over.

Alex must have felt it coming, the way Dylan spasmed slightly right before tipping over the edge because he sat back to watch himself jerk Dylan through his orgasm, licking his lips and concentrating so hard he could have burned a hole into Dylan’s skin with his gaze.

“Well, fuck me,” Dylan said. A little bit of hysterical laugher followed, short bubble bursts of it, because he always felt high as a kite after he came. Oh, they could get high. He had gummies and Alex was willing to go that route with him sometimes.

“Yeah?” Alex gave him a soft, coy look. “You want to?”

“Want to what?”

“Want me to fuck you?”

“Oh,” Dylan said. He felt wrung out but it was probably fair to let Alex get his. He tried to be good about that sort of thing and Alex, he noticed, had one hand in his boxers and was stroking himself while he waited for a more affirmative answer or something. “Sure.”

“You’re basically ready,” Alex said, matter of fact. It was so frank it made Dylan’s toes curl a little. “Got you all wet,” Alex went on, in this tone that made it seem like he couldn’t possibly know what he was doing to Dylan with that kind of talk. “Felt like you wanted my whole tongue inside you.”

“That’s fucking filthy,” Dylan said, thinking it was also fucking filthy casual of Alex to just say shit like that. He fought the urge to reach down and touch himself where Alex’s tongue had been. He still wasn’t, like, into doing that to himself. Didn’t really feel the need to—but he sort of wanted to know what it felt like, if he was actually that…receptive.

Alex must have snapped on a condom during his reverie and lubed himself up because he was back between Dylan’s thighs and the tip of his dick was nudging at him, trying to get in.

Dylan made himself relax, he rocked a little on the pillow to get the angle right, and stared up at the ceiling while Alex pushed inside, taking all of his breath along with the space he filled up.

“ _Fuck_ ,” Alex said, holding himself still once he was deep. His arms were shaking on either side of Dylan. “I didn’t know you’d feel like this.”

Dylan, for his part, felt like gelatin. He kept tensing and releasing involuntarily. Alex felt uncharacteristically huge. They’d never fucked after he’d come before. It was a lot. “It’s—it’s a lot,” he said.

“Yeah.” Alex let out a whoosh of breath. “Yeah, Dyl. You good?”

Dylan nodded. He lifted his chin up, he wanted to say “kiss me.”

Alex met him half-way there and did.


End file.
